THERE WAS silence. I couldn't have spoken at thebeginning. Slowly, I sat up. Memory came of what the guide at the show hadsaid... "Harmless!" But I didn't believe that anymore.

Three times now this beast had come here, twice to leave messages. I let mymind run over those messages, and I quailed " . . . The cat wants to talk toyou!" Was it possible that this thing could talk.

The very inactivity of the animal finally gave me courage. I licked my lips andsaid:

"Can you talk?"

The cat stirred. It raised an arm in the unhurried fashion of somebody who doesnot want to cause alarm. It pointed at the night table beside my bed. Ifollowed the pointing finger and saw that an instrument was standing under thelamp. The instrument spoke at me:

"I cannot emit human sounds with my own body, but as you can hear this is anexcellent intermediary."

I have to confess that I jumped, that my mind scurried into a deep corner of myhead--and only slowly came out again as the silence continued, and no attemptwas made to harm me. I don't know why I should have assumed that its ability tospeak through a mechanical device was a threat to me. But I had.

I suppose it was really a mental shrinking, my mind unwilling to accept thereality that was here. Before I could think clearly, the instrument on thetable said:

"The problem of conveying thoughts through an electronic device depends onrhythmic utilization of brain energies."

The statement stirred me. I had read considerable on that subject, beginningwith Professor Hans Berger's report on brain rhythms in 1929. The cat'sstatements didn't quite fit.

"Isn't the energy potential too small?" I asked. "And besides you have youreyes open. The rhythms are always interfered with when the eyes are open, andin fact such a large part of the cortex yields to the visual centers that norhythm whatever is detectable at such times."

It didn't strike me then, but I think now that I actually distracted the animalfrom its purpose. "What measurements have been taken?" it asked. Even throughthe mind radio, it sounded interested.

"Photoelectric cells," I said, "have measured as much (or as little, which isreally more accurate) as 50 microvolts of energy, mostly in the active regionsof the brain. Do you know what a microvolt is?"

The creature nodded. It said after a moment, "I won't tell you what energy mybrain develops. It would probably frighten you, but it isn't all intelligence.I am a student on a tour of the galaxy, what might be called a postgraduatetour. Now, we have certain rules--" It stopped. "You opened your mouth. Did youwish to say something?"

I felt dumb, overwhelmed. Then, weakly, "You said galaxy."

That is correct."

"B-but wouldn't that take years?" My brain was reaching out, striving to grasp,to understand.

"My tour will last about a thousand of your years," said the cat.

"You're immortal?"

"Oh, no."

"But--"

There I stopped. I couldn't go on. I sat there, blank-brained, while thecreature went on:

"The rules of the fraternity of students require that we tell one person aboutourselves before we leave the planet. And that we take with us a symbolicalsouvenir of the civilization of the beings on it. I'm curious to know what youwould suggest as a souvenir of earth. It can be anything, so long as it tellsat a glance the dominating character of the race."

The question calmed me. My brain stopped its alternation of mad whirlingfollowed by blankness. I began to feel distinctly better. I shifted myself intoa more comfortable position and stroked my jaw thoughtfully. I sincerely hopedthat I was giving the impression that I was an intelligent person whose opinionwould be worthwhile.

A sense of incredible complication began to seize on me. I had realized itbefore, but now, with an actual decision to make, it seemed to me that humanbeings were really immensely intricate creatures. How could anybody pick onefacet of their nature, and say, "This is man!" Or "This represents man!" I saidslowly:

"A work of art, science, or any useful article--you include those?"

"Anything."

My interest was now at its peak. My whole being accepted the wonderfulness ofwhat had happened. It seemed tremendously important that the great race thatcould travel the breadth and length of the galaxy should have some truerepresentation of man's civilization. It amazed me, when I finally thought ofthe answer, that it had taken me so long. But the moment it occurred to me, Iknew I had it.

"Man," I said, "is primarily a religious animal. From times too remote to be awritten record, he has needed a faith in something. Once, he believed almostentirely in animate gods like rivers, storms, plants, then his gods becameinvisible; now they are once more becoming animate. An economic system,science--whatever it will be, the dominating article of it will be that heworships it without regard to reason, in other words in a purely religiousfashion.

I finished with a quiet satisfaction, "All you need is an image of a man in adurable metal, his head tilted back, his arms raised to the sky, a raptexpression on his face, and written on the base of the inscription, 'Ibelieve'."

I saw that the creature was staring at me. "Very interesting," it said at last."I think you are very close to it, but you haven't quite got the answer."

It stood up. "But now I want you to come with me."

"Eh?"

"Dress, please."

It was unemotionally said. The fear that had been held deep inside me forminutes came back like a fire that had reached a new cycle of energy.

I DROVE MY car. The cat sat beside me. The night was cool and refreshing,butdark. A fraction of a moon peered out occasionally from scurrying clouds, andthere were glimpses of star filtered dark blue sky. The realization that, fromsomewhere up there, this creature had come down to our earth dimmed mytenseness. I ventured:

"Your people--have they progressed much further than we to the innermostmeaning of truth?"

It sounded drab and precise, a pedagogical rather than a vitally alivequestion. I added quickly:

"I hope you won't mind answering a few questions."

Again it sounded inadequate. It seemed to me in an abrupt agony of despair thatI was muffing the opportunity of the centuries. Silently, I cursed myprofessional training that made my every word sound as dry as dust.

"That card," I said. "You sent that?"

"Yes." The machine on the cat's lap spoke quietly but clearly.

"How did you know my address and my name?"

"I didn't."

Before I could say anything, the cat went on, "You will understand all thatbefore the night's over."

"Oh!" The words held me for a second. I could feel the tightness crawling intomy stomach. I had been trying not to think of what was going to happen beforethis night was over. ". . Questions?" I croaked. "Will you answer them?"

I parted my lips to start a machine gun patter of queries. And then, I closedthem again. What did I want to know? The vast implications of that replythrottled my voice. Why, oh, why, are human beings so emotional at the greatmoments of their lives? I couldn't think, for what seemed an endless time. Andwhen I finally spoke again, my first question was trite and not at all what Iintended. I said:

"You came in a spaceship?"

The cat looked at one thoughtfully. "No," it replied slowly. "I use the energyin my brain."

"Eh! You came through space in your own body?"

"In a sense. One of these years human beings will make the initial discoveriesabout the rhythmic use of energy. It will be a dazzling moment for science."

"We have," I said, "already made certain discoveries about our nervous systemsand rhythm."

"The end of that road," was the answer, "is control of the powers of nature. Iwill say more about that."

I was silent, but only briefly. The questions were bubbling now. "Is itpossible," I asked, "to develop an atomic powered spaceship?"

"Not in the way you think," said the cat. "An atomic explosion cannot beconfined except when it is drawn out in a series of timed frustrations. Andthat is an engineering problem, and has very little to do with creativephysics."

"Life," I mumbled, "where did life come from?"

"Electronic accidents occurring in a suitable environment."

I had to stop there. I couldn't help it. "Electronic accidents. What do youmean?"

"The difference between an inorganic and an organic atom is the arrangement ofthe internal structure. The hydrocarbon compounds being the most easilyaffected under certain conditions are the most common form of life. But nowthat you have atomic energy you will discover that life can be created from anyelement or compound of elements. Be careful. The hydrocarbon is a weak lifestructure that could be easily overwhelmed in its present state ofdevelopment."

I felt a chill. I could just picture the research that would be going on ingovernment laboratories.

"You mean," I gulped, there are life forms that would be dangerous the momentthey are created?"

Dangerous to man," said the cat. It pointed suddenly. "Turn up that street, andthen through a side entrance into the circus grounds."

I had been wondering tensely where we were going. Strangely, it was a shock torealize the truth.

A few minutes later we entered the dark, silent tent of the freaks. And I knewthat the final drama of the cat on earth was about to be enacted. A tiny lightflickered in the shadows. It came nearer, and I saw that there was a manwalking underneath it. It was too dark to recognize him, but the light grewstronger, and I saw that it had no source. And suddenly I recognized SilkeyTravis. He was sound asleep. He came forward, and stood in front of the cat. Helooked unnatural, forlorn, like a woman caught without her makeup on. One longtrembling look I took at him, and then I stammered:

"What are you gong to do?"

The machine the cat carried did not reply immediately. The cat turned andstared at me thoughtfully, then it touched Silkey's face, gently, with onefinger. Silkey's eyes opened, but he made no other reaction. I realized thatone part of his consciousness had been made aware of what was happening. Iwhispered:

"Can he hear?"

The cat nodded.

"Can he think?"

The cat shook its head; and then it said:

"In your analysis of the basic nature of human beings you selected a symptomonly. Man is religious because of a certain characteristic. I'll give you aclue. When an alien arrives on an inhabited planet, there is usually only oneway that he can pass among the intelligent beings on that planet without beingrecognized for what he is. When you find that method, you have attainedunderstanding of the fundamental character of the race."

It was hard for me to think. In the dim emptiness of the freak tent, the greatsilence of the circus grounds all around, what was happening seemed unnatural.I was not afraid of the cat. But there was a fear inside me, as strong asterror, as dark as night. I looked at the unmoving Silkey with all the lines ofhis years flabby on his face. And then I stared at the light that hovered abovehim. And finally I looked at the cat, and I said:

"Curiosity. You mean, man's curiosity. His interest in strange objects makeshim accept them as natural when he sees them."

The cat said, "It seems incredible that you, an intelligent man, have neverrealized the one character of all human beings." It turned briskly,straightening. "But now, enough of this conversation. I have fulfilled thebasic requirements of my domicile here. I have lived for a period without beingsuspected, and I have told one inhabitant that I have been here. It remains forme to send home a significant artifact of your civilization--and then I can beon my way . . . elsewhere."

I ventured, shakily, "Surely, the artifact isn't Silkey."

"We seldom," said the cat, "choose actual inhabitants of a planet, but when wedo we give them a compensation designed to balance what we take away. In hiscase, virtual immortality."

I felt desperate, suddenly. Seconds only remained; and it wasn't that I had anyemotion for Silkey. He stood there like a clod, and even though later he wouldremember, it didn't matter. It seemed to me that the cat had discovered someinnate secret of human nature which I, as a biologist, must know.

"For God's sake," I said, "you haven't explained anything yet. What is thisbasic human characteristic. And what about the postcard you sent me. And--"

"You have all the clues." The creature started to turn away. "Your inability tocomprehend is no concern of mine. We have a code, we students, that is all."

"But what," I asked desperately "shall I tell the world? Have you no messagefor humankind, something--"

The cat was looking at me again. "If you can possibly restrain yourself," itsaid, "don't tell anyone anything."

This time, when it moved away, it did not look back. I saw, with a start, thatthe mist of light above Silkey's head was expanding, growing. Brighter, vaster,it grew. It began to pulse with a gentle but unbroken rhythm. Inside itscoalescing fire the cat and Silkey were dim forms, like shadows in a fire.

Abruptly, the shadows faded; and then the mist of light began to dim. Slowly,it sagged to the ground, and lay for minutes blurring into the darkness.

Of Silkey and the creature there was no sign.

THE GROUP sitting around the table in the bar was briefly silent. Finally,Gordsaid, "Glub!" and Jones said in a positive fashion:

"You solved the problem of the postcard, of course?"

The slim, professorish man nodded. "I think so. The reference in the card totime differentials is the clue. The card was sent after Silkey was put onexhibition in the school museum of the cat people, but because of timevariations in transmission it arrived before I knew Silkey would be in town."

Morton came up out of the depths of his chair. "And what about this basic humancharacteristic, of which religion is merely an outward expression?"

The stranger made a gesture. "Silkey, exhibiting freaks, was really exhibitinghimself. Religion is self-dramatization before a god. Self-love, narcissism--inour own little way we show ourselves off . . . and so a strange being couldcome into our midst unsuspected."

Cathy hiccoughed, and said, "The love interest is what I like. Did you marryVirginia? You are the professor of biology at State, aren't you?"

The other shook his head. "I was," he said. "I should have followed the cat'sadvice. But I felt it was important to tell other people what had happened. Iwas dismissed after three months, and I won't tell you what I'm doing now. ButI must go on. The world must know about the weakness that makes us sovulnerable. Virginia? She married a pilot of big air firms. She fell for hisline of self-dramatization."

He stood up. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way. I've got a lot of bars tovisit tonight."

When he had gone, Ted paused momentarily in his evening's task of lookingstupid. "There," he said, "is a guy who really has a line. Just imagine.He's going to tell that story about five times tonight. What a set-up for afellow who wants to be the center of attention."

Myra giggled. Jones began to talk to Gord in his know-it-all fashion. Gordsaid, "Glub!" every few seconds, just as if he was listening. Cathy put herhead on the table and snored drunkenly. And Morton sagged lower and lower inhis chair.